


The Knight and the Dragon

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Nightmares, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John has nightmares, Mycroft knows the stories to help him sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Knight and the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phipiohsum475](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475/gifts).



> Now with [cover art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4943380) by HumsHappily

Mycroft never really set out to have a relationship with John Watson. But their shared interest was a driving need to keep Sherlock Holmes alive, functioning, and at least semi-healthy. So it was only natural that they fell into an almost daily communication, which led to occasional meetings, and then dinners, and eventually to John Watson taking him over his desk at the Diogenes Club, a small but strong hand clapped over his mouth to keep his cries down.

At first they restricted their activities to whichever one of Mycroft’s offices he was using that day, but then sometimes he worked from home, so John started coming there as well. On this particular evening, John looked more tired than usual. Mycroft knew that Sherlock had kept him running around London for most of the day, and he doubted he’d had much sleep the night before. The weather had turned chill and Mycroft noted that his leg was bothering him, though he was doing his best to hide it. John tossed himself into a chair, shaking off the cold. Mycroft handed him a cup of tea and went back to his work, finishing up a last few things.

“Your idiot brother tried to fall off a roof tonight,” muttered John, sipping the tea gratefully. “He’s home now, doing I-don’t want-to-know-what to a piece of cloth we found.”

Mycroft couldn’t help a bit of a smile. “You should stay here tonight, then. He’ll be up all night himself.”

John looked into his tea. He’d spent the night twice before, showing up at Mycroft’s house at ungodly hours and passing right out as soon as he curled up next to the British Government.

“All right,” said John. Mycroft was pleased he’d been correct in asking him. He must have been tired if he’d agreed without any snark at all. Mycroft saved his work and closed his laptop. “Perhaps a hot bath?” he suggested.

“I’ll take a shower,” said John, rubbing his eyes as they headed up the stairs.

Mycroft brushed his teeth as John used his shower, watching the compact form in the mirror as he completed his ablutions.

He left John a pair of pyjamas and climbed into bed as John finished up. John turned off the bathroom light and got in next to him, laying on his back. Mycroft curled up on his side and rest a hand on his arm, listening to John fall asleep before allowing himself to rest.

Sometime in the small hours of the morning, Mycroft jerked awake. John was muttering in his sleep, clearly in the throes of some nightmare. Mycroft moved closer to him, remembering Sherlock’s nightmares when he was a child. Sometimes he would climb in bed with his big brother, and Mycroft always knew what stories would calm him. John would require slightly different stories.

“There once was a brave knight,” whispered Mycroft in his ear. “A terrible and terrifying dragon had been seen in the kingdom.” He felt John still a bit as he listened. “The brave knight loved his kingdom very much and knew he had to be the one to save it.” Mycroft reached up and ran fingers through John’s hair. “The brave knight rode out to meet the dragon, expecting it to be an awful fight. But when he got to the dragon’s lair he found it nursing its foot. The brave knight, being kind as well as brave, went to investigate, cautiously of course. That’s when he realized a bit of steeple had pierced the dragon’s foot, like a splinter the dragon couldn’t get out on it’s own.” John was almost back asleep now, he could tell. “The brave knight told the dragon he’d remove it, if the dragon would leave his kingdom alone. The dragon agreed and the knight carefully pulled it free, though the dragon howled in pain. Still, the knight bandaged the wound and the dragon never bothered the kingdom again.”

John muttered in his sleep and rolled onto his side, cuddling against Mycroft. Mycroft kissed the top of his head and held his hand as he fell asleep again.

The next morning, neither of them spoke of it.

**

Time passed as it was wont to do. When John spent the night, he didn’t always have nightmares, but when he did, Mycroft would resume his stories about the brave knight and the dragon, which, over the course of time, became friends and worked together to defeat even bigger threats to the knight’s kingdom. Neither of them spoke of the stories in the daytime and Mycroft privately doubted John even remembered hearing them.

**

Mycroft’s work was not typically dangerous. But of course there were hazards. Which was why he had a security team, besides his own formidable skills. But perhaps it was inevitable that one day something would go pear-shaped and Mycroft found himself bleeding out onto the pavement, thankful that the assassin hadn’t managed a headshot.

He was rather surprised that the first person to reach him wasn’t Anthea, but John. He must have been close by when everything happened. Mycroft tried to speak but John shushed him, his hands confident and sure as he tended the wound. The sounds of sirens was the last thing Mycroft heard before he passed out.

**

When Mycroft woke up in the hospital he was alone. He ignored the feeling of disappointment and looked around, hoping that maybe Anthea had left him his mobile. Instead, his breath caught as he saw two small figures had been left on the bedside table. A knight and a dragon. The dragon had a tiny bandage carefully tied onto it. Mycroft smiled and lay back, closing his eyes.

He was just drifting off again when the door opened and quietly closed. _John_. He knew by the scent of tea and the tread of his feet. He started to open his eyes, but then he felt John's hand in his. "And one day the knight found the dragon badly injured and the knight called the dragon an idiot as he patched him up."

Mycroft opened one eye, then the other. "That's not how it goes."

"Does in my version." John leaned up and kissed his forehead. 

Mycroft gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. “Good thing my knight happened to be close by.”

“I was on my way to see you and I heard the shots. Lucky you they weren’t a very good aim.”

“Ah, so not a master bowman,” said Mycroft, reaching up with his free hand to brush John’s hair back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now rest. You’ll be back to guarding the kingdom soon enough.” John kissed him gently and took a seat, as if he really was standing sentinel. Probably at least a little to make sure Mycroft really did rest. And to assure himself he was safe. Mycroft fell back asleep, still holding John’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to beltainefaire, humshappily and sexxica for reading it over!
> 
> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr at [merindab.tumblr.com](http://merindab.tumblr.com)


End file.
